


Boil, Toil, Trouble

by korynn



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korynn/pseuds/korynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasty business, the mating cycle of hobbits. Thrown away due to laziness, no one bothers finding their mates anymore.</p><p>Unless you're Bilbo Baggins, and yours finds you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boil, Toil, Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stileswolfsout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stileswolfsout/gifts).



> okay, as usual, no beta!
> 
> and of course i'm the first to run wild with my knotting kink on another fandom, SORRY LOVES!!!
> 
> hope you like, comments feed the writing muse, blah blah blah critiquing is always welcome, it's been a while and god, i need to reread this book!
> 
> love you all. <3

The first time one of the dwarves sniffs him, he thinks nothing of it, until about the fifth time, where Bofur gets a strong whiff along with brushing his hand down Bilbo's back. Normally, that would offend him, make him shove the male away, but instead he gasps, skin tingling and heat rushing through him.

The first chance he gets, he seeks out Gandalf, assuming the wizard would know more about the strangeness of dwarves and their affect on him.  
He's correct.

"You're fertile, Mr. Baggins. They're trying to trigger your heat. They're possessive creatures, dwarves. One of them is going to, or else you wouldn't be so close."

Bilbo's eyes widen, a wheeze of shocked laughter following the wizard's words.  
"You're joking. That whole fertile and heat business with hobbits died out decades ago, too much work, seeking out a mate."  
Gandalf shrugs, a little smile on his face.  
"Well, Bilbo, seems like _one_ of our company is."  
  
Bilbo ignores the wizards words, ignores the dwarves petting him and all the coddling it brings with, shocks them all by wielding a sword at Azog, and tries his damnedest to prove he wasn't as weak as his body tried to suggest.

Just because he was fertile didn't mean he couldn't hold his own.

But then Thorin's alive and his first words are for him.

His gaze is nearly wild when he catches Bilbo's, and the words make the hobbit shudder, until the dwarven king is wrapping him up and, oh _Aule_ , of course it has to be Thorin. He can feel the flush of heat even before the rest of the group sees it on his face, can pinpoint exactly when Thorin catches it too. His grip tightens, nose pushing into his pulse, lips against his skin like a promise as he whispers out a "later, my dear burglar."

Later means weeks, and Bilbo is a wreck by then, just being around Thorin enough to get him completely engulfed in a heat. He gives in and slips away, needing the attention of more than just curious stares and knowing looks, while the king under the mountain does nothing to sooth his burning.

Bilbo understands that he isn't a priority to him, his kingdom and gold reclaimed the whole reason they even met, but he's in agony, every movement turning into a caress, a strong enough wind could pull him close to the brink now.

So he finds a dark spot, wiggles his breeches down just enough to slide fingers where the burn is the strongest, already slick and wanting. Clenching his jaw as more heat slides through his blood, he almost wishes that it would've been another one of the dwarves, one that wouldn't have any qualms in fucking him as soon as his heat set. Thorin, the only one who never tried triggering him earlier, the only one that kept his distance, has to be his mate.  
He knows his luck had to have run out sometime, but this is just cruel.  
  
Rolling his shoulders as muscles jerk, he tries to pull an orgasm, just enough to simmer the heat down, but it seems like he's just too far along, and all he's doing his torturing himself now.

Slumping, pulling wet fingers out of himself, Bilbo gives up to gasp in the cool night air, eyes staring at nothing above him for a long moment, until movement finally catches his gaze.  
  
Thorin, his King, standing a good few feet away, flushed and nearly shaking as he takes in the hobbit. Bilbo's frozen by that blue gaze, toes curling and a small whimper escaping him.  
  
"Oh, my hobbit, I had...no one told me that you....mating is different between dwarves and your kind, it seems. I'm sorry I made you suffer so. Please, can I...?" It seems like logical, put together sentences have escaped the King, which brings a small sort of smugness in Bilbo, but right now, he's just nearly rumbling with want, and can't make a snarky comment, just stares at the dwarf and hopes his body can speak enough for him.  
Stepping closer, Thorin's on his knees now, hands curling around Bilbo's calves and the touch like a live wire, soaking him from the touch to his fingers, skin tightening with more and more want.  
"I am yours, you needn't ask, King."  
  
Thorin makes a noise like a moan, but more desperate, at that. He pulls at those legs, twisting Bilbo around to his knees, large hands pulling down the breeches and small clothes even further to nuzzle at the soft skin of his lower back, ass, and thighs. Teeth take a claim on one before he follows the wetness running down them to his hole, tongue a wide knife of perfect as it laps at him, soothing the muscles. 

His spit makes Bilbo gasp, the shock of it bringing out a jerk, but Thorin's hands hold his hips steady, thumbs holding him open as he practically feasts on the slickness of Bilbo's ass, making noises that rake up his spine and come out his own mouth, already a quivering wreck.

"Please, Thorin, I'm....I don't....I need-"

Thorin pulls back just enough to let Bilbo feel the smirk against his skin. "Need what, my little love?" He pushes, letting beard rub against thighs, hands sliding up to Bilbo's waist, settling down some of the shivers with just his touch alone.

"Thorin, I need _you_."

And how could Thorin say no to that, really? Bilbo twisted around again, sprawling out in the grass with one touch, and dragged the king in by his hair, grinning at the pause Thorin gave, as if Bilbo honestly bothered about hygiene when he wanted that tongue in his mouth, previous places be damned.

He might have said that out loud, because Thorin's chuckling into the kiss, pulling Bilbo's hands down to help undo layers of clothes, one hand holding his weight off the slightly smaller hobbit even as the other reached down to grasp his cock. "It's all up to you how fast we get farther along, Bilbo, so please do hurry. I don't think you'd approve of an audience, even if in a few moments I'll have you oblivious to anything but me."

Shivering and whimpering just at the thought, Bilbo's practically clawing at skins to get Thorin bared, rubbing fingers against the bulge that he just wants and whining when the dwarf's hand pulls at his cock just right to get stars bursting in his vision.

Getting him mewling seemed like Thorin's plan, so he reached up to clamp his teeth in the spot where neck met shoulder on the dwarf, staking his own claim even as Thorin finally shoved in, bringing them together.

"Fuuck, Thorin, please. More, more, _more_!"

Bilbo doesn't know what he's asking for, but the feeling of being stretched even farther stops his train of thought, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the slick leather of Thorin's coat, oh, god, he's still completely dressed, as something makes itself at home inside him, something that he's pretty sure isn't common.

"Hush, Bilbo, it's alright, it's fine." And thats when he realizes his throat is dry, that he's been near a scream as, oh, that's a knot, thats what that is. "You...you're, _**ohhhh**_..." Then Thorin's locked in and pumping him full, triggering his own orgasm.

" _Finally_." He gasps into the dwarf's hair, hands having found their way under linen and fur to find the broad, warm skin of his back, and Bilbo can't imagine anyone not bothering to seek this out, to not want to feel this at home as he does now.

"You've never been lost, have you, my little hobbit?" Thorin murmurs, and Bilbo can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him, nuzzling into warmth and never wanting to move again.

"I think you were the lost one, but I'm sure we would've found this eventually."

"I'm glad we did, love."

"Me too, my King, me too."

Thorin growls, grinning as he rocks into Bilbo again. "Again."

" _My king_."


End file.
